


This Is Not

by gyromitra



Series: Days of Our Superhero Lives - R76valentines [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gift, It has hints of backstory, M/M, R76Valentines, Superhero!AU, and few specks of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9691037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyromitra/pseuds/gyromitra
Summary: In which, again, there is too many Tracers, sexy lingerie makes an appearance and Talon is a traitorous bunch of Hydra-like doofuses.OR“Abeoji? The lingerie, do they make it for girls too?”





	

The first package just arrives – no one is sure how – at the base in Gibraltar and sits leisurely on the table in the common area, just by the arcade machines. It is cardboard brown, flat and square. Tracer finds it.

What she digs out from the packing paper is flowy, has curves and, very obviously, too little cloth went into making it. As soon as she tries to find where the thing has its up and down, another her pops into existence and squeals.

“I remember this!” Tracer announces and starts whispering into other Lena’s ear.

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

Then the Wonder Boy accosts them and snags it. He mutters about needing something like this and disappears with haste. Half an hour later there is a bloodcurdling scream of terror and Jack runs into the common room almost tripping on the carpet.

“Keep this shit to your own fucking bedroom!”

Four Tracers exchange knowing looks.

“Listen, girls, it gets only better,” one of them adds in a stage whisper. Jack freezes and eyes them with distrust clear on his face.

*

The second package arrives via a ship and a very stressed looking tentacle thing. Jack groans when he is handed (tentacled?) a pad to sign off on the delivery because it refuses to let Lena do just that.

“What the fuck is this, some galactic UPS?” He comments while judging the package.

“Actually, it says right on the side,” Tracer points to the wriggling symbols. “Pan-Dimensional Universal Deliveries.”

“How can you read that?” Jack stares at her as the ship zips off into a portal.

“Easy, Jackie-boy. I have ten years on you,” Lena multiplies and directs herself to grab the box and bring it inside. “I can’t wait to see what’s in it,” she giggles, giving him a decidedly pointed look. Jack can feel the growing dread settling gently in his stomach.

But, to his relief, there is a see-through container inside with something that looks like a cake unicorn barfed on and a note in the wriggly script attached. Tracer snatches it, her eyes go big, and she hastily turns singular, except for Lena that just happens to enter the room with Emily.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing! Looking good, Em,” future Tracer changes the subject quickly. The cake is perfect anyway, they all decide after a slice (even Ana and Angela), and Jack can’t be bothered with thinking who sent it – even if he does have an inkling that borders on certainty.

But the container is resting on something in the box and he picks up that thing. At the initial inspection, it looks like several scraps of fabric thrown haphazardly together. Gabriel almost chokes on his tea.

“What the fuck? It was yours?”

“What?” Jack looks at the thing again and then drops it like it burns when the realization dawns on him. “No! Shit! No! Never seen it before! Someone sent it!”

“But it was addressed to you, Jackie-boy,” future Tracer gleefully points out.

“And the fit was perfect,” Wonder Boy adds with a big self-satisfied grin on his fucking face while snuggling closer to Gabriel. God, Jack groans, he was seriously an asshole at that age. “Someone has a secret admirer, old fart. What?” The blonde rolls his eyes when Gabriel elbows him. “I’m stating the obvious.”

“You can eat the rest of it,” Jack decides that he has had enough and goes out for a smoke. It is one thing, being stalked by a villain from another dimension, but have him send something like that… that he remembers the Wonder Boy in…

“Hey,” future Lena joins him and pats his shoulder reassuringly. “It ain’t all that bad, you know, Jackie-boy?”

“He’s going to break my heart all over again, isn’t he?” He doesn’t look at her and throws the cigarette down, then stomps on it.

“You know I can’t talk about that. Besides, Jackie-boy, you blink, and the future is different,” somehow she looks tired. “But how bad could it really be?” Jack is about to answer her that yes, it could be very fucking bad, but Meka Girl leans out of the window above them.

“Abeoji? The lingerie, do they make it for girls too?” Jack decides that he desperately needs a drink.

*

The third package is the first one that looks like a proper gift – dark wrapping paper, silver bow and a little handwritten note. What is unnerving is the fact that it waits for him on his own bed. Jack picks up the note, thankfully written in English, not that other crawling nonsense. ‘Noticed you would need a new one.’

Right. If it’s the ‘sexy lingerie’ again, the next time he sees Reaper he’s going to force the damn thing down his fucking throat.

But to his surprise, Jack unwraps a jacket, crisp and new, almost identical to the one he usually wears as a part of his costume. The leather is softer, there are few changes to the measurements, and, all in all, it is comfortable. More importantly, it does not need to be stitched together again like the one resting on the chair by the window.

It is a thoughtful gift and Jack smiles for a moment.

*

A month down the line comes the usual revelation that Talon triple-crossed everybody, even themselves, and Reaper turns into a tentative ally for the time being. Jack can’t understand why would anyone collaborate with Talon, they do that every time. Every. Fucking. Time.

“Hail Talon!” The goon jumps at them but Reaper just swats him away.

“I swear, it’s like they get stupider,” the villain sighs annoyed.

“You could have spent five minutes reading their Omnipedia page,” Jack rolls his eyes behind the mask. “They have a big banner you can’t delete that literally says ‘Advice to budding villains: don’t ally with Talon, they will turn on you’.”

“Darling, it isn’t the first time they’ve tried it. They just get infinitely worse at it each time.” Jack stops dumbstruck in his tracks.

“How do they get worse at it, they have your gate generators?”

“I don’t need them.” Reaper shrugs. “And just about now the problem should solve itself.” Right on cue, the explosion shakes the ground and flattens Talon base in an outstanding show of fireworks that changes the evening sky into a blaze of multicolored swaths. “Now, darling, what about a kiss?”

“You planned it,” Jack points an accusatory finger at Reaper just as Meka passes them by laughing manically with Frog clinging to the top of the pink mech blasting victory music, all while chasing some poor Talon footsoldiers running for their lives.

“Might have.” He doesn’t have to imagine the damn smirk hiding behind that ugly mask because Reaper takes it off and leans closer.

“No. You are impossible!” Jack tries to push him away but somehow his palms just happen to linger on the other man’s chest and he does not step back when taloned fingers release the latch of his mask. “Seriously, this is little too much.”

“Hush, darling, I’m courting you,” Reaper bites lightly on his ear.

“You don’t announce you’re courting someone, and this,” Jack whimpers because it feels like electricity shooting all the way down his spine, “this is not courting, this is molesting and stalking.”

“You can tell me to stop anytime you want, darling,” Jack bites on his lip when hands move over his back.

“And you will stop?”

“Of course,” Reaper sounds a little put off by the suggestion but then a lick of satisfaction creeps into his voice. Smug bastard. “You’re wearing it.”

“It’s nice,” Jack admits with a bit of reluctance. “In comparison to that other thing,” he adds, moving his head to the side, just so it feels natural for Reaper to kiss him here and now. It’s warm, sweet and a little scratchy. Comfortable. Until he notices where one hand on his back traveled in the meantime and, on top of it all, squeezed. “What the…?”

Reaper smirks at him and disappears before Jack can tell him what does he exactly think about that particular stunt, so he just turns on his heel and comes face to face with Gabriel.

Gabriel that wears an interesting expression – a mix of bewilderment, disgust and something else Jack definitely won’t dwell on.

“Did he… cop a feel?”

“Oh, great, now you know how I feel about every fucking day,” Jack glances at the Wonder Boy, wearing that fucking blue coat of his, as he tries to shy away from Angela when she attempts to swab at the cut on his cheek. Goddammit, he was such a little shit dweeb at that age.

“Fair point,” Gabriel looks even more uncomfortable now, maybe even guilty, his eyes darting between the two of them. “Listen…”

“This isn’t a good time, Gabe,” Jack steps past him, shouldering his rifle.

“And when will be a good time?”

“Probably never.” Gabriel wants to add something but resigns. “Go take care of the drama queen.”

*

When he gets back (on his own) to the Gibraltar base, there is a single flower resting on his bed. Jack sighs and picks it up. It smells deep, like the night, and he can see the sparkling rainbow in the sky when he closes his eyes.

“Seriously, I’m not a woman.”

“I know, darling,” Reaper materializes behind him, hands sneaking around him and fingers lacing on his stomach, ”but you are my mate and I’m courting you.”

“So, no courting, no gifts?”

“You are deserving of gifts no matter what,” Reaper whispers against his neck and Jack can tell the traitorous blush crawls up his face, “and I’m going to make up for all of those you never got but should have.”

“It’s not…” Jack is at a loss what to say because what can you tell a fucking villain that seems to be obsessed with you, not that he is complaining too much, but still, it is kind of unsettling, even if nice. “Stay the night,” Jack swears that with the way his cheeks and neck burn he must be positively red. “I mean, just sleep.”

“I know, darling,” he feels the smile against his shoulder. This whole thing might not be as bad as it seems.


End file.
